The Billionaire's Bloody Regret

Eighteen again. I sit next to the resident rebel. He despises textbooks.

He sleeps through lectures, ditches class for basketball, and hits the local arcade the second the final bell rings.

I refuse to chase him around and micromanage his life like I did in my past life. Until my eyes snag on the parent signature scrawled across his math test.

A bold, sweeping signature leaps off the page—Alistair. I freeze in place. So, the son Alistair and I share... grew up this fast?

Chapter 1 My hand on his chest stopped his words dead in his throat. Confusion quickly replaced his panic. "Blair… why don't you care?" I didn't just not care.

I practically nudged Callum back toward the bed. "Juliette was slipped an aphrodisiac. It's a matter of life and death.

Why would I be petty and jealous at a time like this?" A muscle feathered along Callum's jaw. The understanding seemed to make him sick. "I won't actually… do anything with her.

I swear." I waved him off with a breezy flick of my wrist. "Even if you do, I totally get it.

You're just saving a life, aren't you?" For some twisted reason, my perfect, understanding girlfriend routine pissed him off. He stood there in silence.

His dark eyes searched my face, clawing for a shred of heartbreak, a single tear, anything. He found nothing.

Callum’s jaw clenched tight, and he slammed the bedroom door shut in my face. All night long, the muffled, heavy sounds of their 'lifesaving' echoed through the drywall.

I woke up craving ice water. Halfway to the kitchen, I nearly tripped over Juliette. She was wearing Callum’s oversized buttondown. Nothing else.

Just bare legs and miles of skin. "Ah!" she gasped, a pathetic little squeak, collapsing onto the living room sofa.

She pouted, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "Callum was so rough with me last night.

I can barely stand." My gaze dropped to the hem of the shirt riding high up her thighs.

Juliette casually tugged the fabric down, making sure I noticed she was completely commando underneath. "My underwear was entirely soaked last night," she whined, batting her eyelashes. "And I hate wearing other people's used things.

Especially another woman's lingerie. So I just had to borrow Callum’s shirt." I casually shot back, "Really?

Because you seem to have zero problem using another woman's used man." Juliette’s fake smile shattered. Her face flushed a dark, angry red. She opened her mouth to snap back.

I just shrugged, tossing her a careless smile. "Relax. It was just a little joke. You wouldn't take that seriously, would you, Juliette?" Her jaw snapped shut.

She swallowed hard, her face cycling from white to red and back again. It took her a solid minute to paste that saccharine smile back on. "Oh, by the way, Blair.

I should really apologize. I completely soaked your bedsheets." Her eyes glittered with raw, unfiltered provocation. "You’ll have to wash them for us.

You don't mind that Callum had to… relieve me last night, right?" She leaned forward, her voice dropping into a breathless, intimate whisper. "Honestly, nothing really happened.

He just used his fingers all night long to help me through the high… I'd hate for you to misunderstand our relationship.

Though, let's be real—if Callum and I were going to do anything, we would have done it years ago." She sat there, practically vibrating with anticipation. Waiting for me to snap.

Waiting for the tears. But I just disappointed her. Chapter 2 I flashed her a bright, plastic smile. "I know you didn't do anything.

If there was any real spark, you would have hooked up during our break.

Plus, if he chose to just use his hands while you were completely out of it, it’s pretty obvious he has zero physical interest in you." I reached out and grabbed Juliette’s hands, squeezing them with weaponized affection. "Honestly, thank you so much, Juliette!

I used to overthink your relationship. But after last night? I completely believe you guys are just like purely platonic siblings!

You were literally naked in his bed, and he still wouldn't touch you. He definitely just sees you as a little sister.

Because only a brother would turn down his sister like that!" With every word that left my mouth, Juliette’s posture grew stiffer, her shoulders locking into place.

A deep wave of satisfaction rolled through my chest. After all, this was exactly the kind of toxic game she had played with me.

It had all started when Callum dragged me and his friend Carter’s crew to the airport to pick Juliette up from her study abroad trip.

When she strolled through the arrivals gate, Carter and the guys went wild, waving and shouting her name. But Juliette ignored them all.

She bypassed the entire group and launched herself straight into Callum’s arms. The guys groaned, loudly calling out her blatant favoritism.

Juliette just peeked over his shoulder at me, sticking her tongue out in a playful pout. "Oops, I forgot Callum is totally taken now.

You're not mad at me, right, Blair?" A massive red flag immediately went up in my head.

It was textbook pickme behavior, leaving this gross, nauseating feeling in my stomach, like I’d just swallowed a dead fly.

That nausea hit its absolute peak later at the welcome dinner. Callum was sitting beside me, meticulously pulling the pickles out of my burger.

Juliette suddenly leaned across the table. "Wow, Callum, your taste has completely changed. Your exes were all such innocent, good girls.

But Blair just screams experienced." Before I could even process the disrespect, she dropped a bomb that left the whole table dead silent. "I'm just super curious, Blair.

Out of all the guys you've slept with, is Callum the best in bed?" I stared at her, completely paralyzed.

She just giggled, her smile perfectly radiant. "Judging by your face, I'm guessing he's definitely not the best." Then, she delivered her most toxic line yet, wrapped in a helpful, innocent tone. "If you don't mind, Blair, I could always let Callum practice on me.

Don't get the wrong idea! I'm a total girls' girl, right? I just really vibe with you, and I want to help you get a better experience in the bedroom.

I swear I don't see Callum like that at all." I swallowed the bile rising in my throat, forcing my voice to stay level. "I don't have any exes.

And I definitely don't need your kind of help." It was like talking to a brick wall.

She just kept pushing, gaslighting me right in front of everyone. "Blair, you really don't have to hide it.

Even if you've been around the block and slept with a ton of guys before Callum, it's totally in the past! He wouldn't care. Besides, the way you walk with your legs so far apart?

Anyone can tell you're highly experienced. Don't be ashamed of it! Being a mature woman with a high body count is totally fine.

Just stop pretending to be some pure, innocent virgin." She punctuated the entire character assassination with a playful little wink, sticking her tongue out again.

Chapter 3 I cut in, my voice totally deadpan. "You know, finding a good neurologist in the States is actually pretty easy right now." Juliette blinked, playing dumb. "Huh?" I took my time, spelling it out for her. "I mean, if you can't process a simple sentence like 'I don't have any exes,' you really need to get your brain checked." The color drained from her face.

A second later, the innocent, doeeyed mask snapped right back into place.

She let out a pathetic little sniffle, her voice trembling. "I was just making a little joke to lighten the mood. You didn't actually take it seriously, did you, Blair?

I'm so sorry. I didn't realize you were so sensitive about jokes.

I'll be more careful next time." With one breath, she completely gaslit me, brushing off pure character assassination as harmless banter.

Naturally, Carter and the rest of his fratbro crew immediately rushed to defend their precious childhood friend. "Come on, Blair. She's basically a kid.

Let it go." "We literally watched her grow up. She doesn't have a malicious bone in her body. Honestly, you shouldn't have called her crazy." "It was literally just a joke.

Why are you taking it so personally?

If you act like this, no one's going to want to joke around with you." Even Callum let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his temples. "Blair, you're being a little too sensitive." Anger flared hot in my chest.

I locked my jaw, forcing the fury down, and turned my focus entirely onto Carter—the loudest guy in the group who just told me I couldn't take a joke. "Callum told me you're actually terrible in bed.

He said you need to pop blue pills just to last five minutes." My gaze drifted over him casually, barely snagging on his large nose and short, stubby fingers.

I tilted my head, feigning genuine curiosity. "I heard guys with short fingers usually have… shortcomings downstairs.

Is Callum telling the truth?" Carter’s head snapped toward Callum. His eyes blazed with absolute murder. Callum’s face lost all its color.

Panic set in. "Blair, what the hell are you talking about? I never said that!" I tapped my chin, playing along. "Hmm… Was it last month? Or the month before?

I honestly can't remember the exact date." Carter’s fist slammed directly into Callum’s jaw. The sick crack echoed through the dining room.

Callum stumbled back, clutching his rapidly swelling face. "Blair, stop messing around! Tell him the truth!" I offered a casual, unapologetic shrug. "Fine.

Callum never said it." Every single guy in the room glared at me with anger. I threw my hands up in mock innocence. "I was just making a little joke to lighten the mood!

Why are you guys taking it so seriously? Come on. Don't tell me two grown men can't take a joke?

If you act like this, no one's going to want to joke around with you." I batted my eyelashes, throwing their exact words right back in their faces.

The silence in the room was absolute gold. They couldn't say a damn thing. Calling me out meant admitting their own blatant hypocrisy.

I stood there, utterly satisfied, watching them choke on their own repressed rage. My phone vibrated with an incoming text from Mrs. Sterling.

I didn't even need to read it to know what Callum’s mother wanted. Back when Callum and I first started dating, Mrs. Sterling made it her personal mission to terrorize me.

She would invite me to Rodeo Drive for a shopping trip, then leave me stranded. I would stand there waiting for a minimum of three hours every single time.

When I finally caved and called her, she would either send it straight to voicemail or pick up just to scream at me. "Stop rushing me!

What, are you dying to go to a funeral?" Chapter 4 Because she was Callum’s mother, I swallowed the abuse.

Sometimes, I would wait from noon until the mall security started locking the doors. Mrs. Sterling would finally call, her voice completely bored. "I changed my mind. It's late.

You aren't seriously still waiting for me, are you?" My fingers would freeze around my phone, my face numb from the AC. "I am." Her vicious sneer would bleed through the speaker. "Are you actually braindead?

Any normal person would have left hours ago! I've never met someone so pathetic. Stupidity is genetic. If you're this slow, any kids you have will be total idiots!

How could I ever let my son date trash like you?" Other times, I stood there from morning until dusk. My stomach would cramp so hard I felt sick.

Once, completely starved, I grabbed a lukewarm soft pretzel from a kiosk. Mrs. Sterling materialized out of nowhere just as I took a bite.

Her lips curled in disgust. "Are you starving to death? You knew I was coming, and you wandered off to stuff your face! What if I couldn't find you? Keep eating like a pig.

I hope you choke." Then came the actual shopping. She and Camille would sweep through the highend boutiques like a plague of locusts, stripping the shelves bare.

At the register, I braced myself. I fully expected her to make me haul shopping bags stacked higher than my head. I was wrong. Mrs.

Sterling stood at the counter for three seconds before whipping around. Her palm cracked across my cheek. The sharp sound echoed over the store's soft jazz. My vision flashed white.

Mrs. Sterling got right in my face, her sharp acrylic nail digging violently into my forehead. "Are you blind? You accompany me shopping, and you expect me to pay?

Where are your manners?" She mockgasped, tapping her own temple. "Oh, right. I forgot. You don't have parents. They dumped you the second you were born.

Of course you're uncultured trash. Remember this sting. It's a lesson on how to treat your betters!" The skin across my cheekbone pulsed with a toxic, scalding heat.

Humiliation burned thick and hot in my throat, bringing a fresh sting of tears to my eyes. My fingers curled into fists, my nails biting into my palms until the skin nearly broke.

My arm twitched. The urge to strike back surged through my blood. I forced my hand down. I couldn't do that to Callum. He already carried too much dead weight just by choosing me.

I was an orphan, abandoned at birth. His parents had done everything to force our breakup.

His father, Calvin, had literally taken a heavy golf club to him, snapping three of Callum’s ribs. Callum never backed down. He never breathed a word of it to me.

I only found out through Carter. His parents eventually backed off the physical violence. But the psychological warfare never stopped. Mrs. Sterling’s constant weeping.

Calvin chainsmoking in dead silence, stubbing out cigarette after cigarette all night. It slowly crushed Callum.

After that slap, I paid for every single one of their shopping sprees. I bled my entire acting paychecks dry.

I drained the savings I hoarded for years—the money meant for a waterfront condo to escape my cramped, rundown studio. I survived on instant ramen and dollar slices.

I was young and blindly stubborn. I wanted to prove I loved Callum for him, not his trust fund. I refused to be a gold digger.

So, I kept my mouth shut about his mother swiping my card. And I never, ever spent a single dime of Callum’s money. Chapter 5 Looking back, I was a complete idiot.

When Juliette finally flew back stateside, Mrs. Sterling immediately dragged her out shopping. Mrs. Sterling swiped my card for all of Juliette’s designer bags and diamonds.

Then she and Callum had the nerve to stand there and praise Juliette’s exquisite taste.

I just trailed behind them like a glorified pack mule, my fingers losing circulation under the weight of a dozen luxury shopping bags.

Back at the estate, I barely dropped the bags before Mrs. Sterling barked her next order. I had to sit there and shell a massive bowl of raw, hardshell hickory nuts.

Meanwhile, Clara, the housekeeper, served Juliette a silver platter of perfectly diced fruit. They lounged on the plush velvet sofa, giggling and eating.

I crouched on the rug by the coffee table, cracking shells until my knuckles ached. The hickory shells were unforgiving. My cuticles peeled back, exposing raw, sensitive flesh.

Every tiny movement sent sharp shots of pain through my fingertips. A jagged edge of shell slipped. It sliced deep into the pad of my index finger.

Thick, hot blood welled up instantly, dripping onto the pristine rug. A burst of bright laughter echoed from the velvet sofa. My throat slammed shut.

My chest seized, locking the oxygen in my lungs. A hot, heavy drop spilled over my lashes. It landed directly into the open, bleeding cut. A sharp, biting sting. Mrs.

Sterling glanced down at my bleeding hand. Her lip curled in absolute disgust. "If you're going to throw a pity party, get the hell out," she spat. "Crying over a papercut.

What a dramatic, pathetic bitch." A violent tremor ripped through my knees. I wanted to bolt. To run out the front door and never look back. But the terror of Mrs.

Sterling icing me out completely glued me to the floor. I swallowed the massive, choking lump in my throat. I sat there for five agonizing hours.

By the end, my fingertips were a mangled mess of microcuts and dried blood. I pushed the overflowing bowl of perfect nut halves toward her. Mrs. Sterling didn't even glance at it.

She grabbed the expensive porcelain bowl and dumped the entire thing straight into the trash. "Your hands are bleeding. You probably got your infected blood all over them.

What if you have a disease?" But I didn't love Callum anymore. I refused to swallow another drop of their toxic poison. Mrs. Sterling was still the exact same.

Her name flashed on my screen, and her shrill voice immediately blasted through the speaker. "You shameless little slut.

What kind of love potion did you slip my son to brainwash him? But I guess it makes sense. Men think with their dicks.

With skills like yours, you must have been passed around by a whole frat house to learn all those tricks." I leaned back, my voice dripping with fake curiosity. "Wow.

Asking for details? Are you desperate to get passed around too, Mrs.

Sterling?" A violent, wet coughing fit exploded over the line. "You—" she wheezed, utterly scandalized. "Have you no shame?! Callum is just using your body!

The second he gets bored, he's dumping you in the gutter!" She didn't even pause for a breath before barking her next order. "Get your ass to the Dior boutique on Rodeo.

Now." My first instinct was to say yes and leave her rotting in the lobby until closing time. But then I remembered my drained bank accounts.

Standing her up was way too easy. "Sure thing, Mrs. Sterling," I chirped, making my voice sickeningly sweet. "I'll be right there.

Oh, and you should totally invite Camille and the rest of your country club friends! The more, the merrier, right?" Mrs.

Sterling scoffed, clearly assuming I was offering up my platinum card again. "Glad you finally know your place." Chapter 6 Unsurprisingly, Mrs.

Sterling's massive ego demanded an audience. She absolutely brought Camille and her country club frenemies along to flaunt her total dominance over her son's pathetic girlfriend.

I took my sweet time, leaving my apartment a full two hours late. When I finally strolled up to the highend boutique, Mrs.

Sterling and her posse were just arriving at the VIP entrance. She immediately snapped, her eyes narrowing at my tardiness. "No manners at all!

Making your elders wait!" I didn't even flinch. I just linked my arm through hers, plastering on a sickeningly sweet smile. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Sterling.

To make up for it, everything you buy today is on me." Her face hardened instantly. "You aren't planning to swipe my son's black card, are you?" I shook my head frantically, playing the perfect, submissive victim. "Of course not!

Why would I spend Callum's money on our girls' day out? But… could you maybe go a little easy on me today?

My entire life savings is on this debit card." A vicious, triumphant smirk sliced across Mrs. Sterling's face. "Oh, don't you worry.

I'll be sure to save you plenty of money." The second she strutted through the boutique's glass doors, she started barking orders at Shelby, the VIP sales associate. "Bring out your most exclusive pieces!

I want to try them all. And don't bother showing me anything under three hundred grand. I don't do cheap trash." I widened my eyes in perfect, manufactured horror. Mrs.

Sterling absolutely soaked up my panic. Shelby carefully presented a velvet tray holding a breathtaking fifteenmilliondollar diamond necklace.

The massive center stone practically blinded us under the display lights. Mrs.

Sterling waved a dismissive hand at the flawless diamond. "Wrap that one up." I let out a strangled gasp, twisting my face into sheer agony. "Mrs.

Sterling, please…" She completely iced me out.

Instead, she jammed a hundredandfiftythousanddollar pigeonblood ruby ring onto her finger. "This barely complements my new manicure. Add it to the tab.

That oneandahalfmilliondollar pink diamond bangle. It's cute for running errands. I'll take it. And the sapphire tennis bracelet. It's only four point five million.

Mine." She was blowing through my cash like Monopoly money. The grand total was rapidly approaching fortyfive million dollars.

I forced my face into a perfect mask of pained reluctance. "I… I really need to use the restroom." As I speedwalked away, her cackling voice echoed off the marble floors. "Look at her!

I barely hit fortyfive million and the broke bitch practically pissed herself. So utterly classless." Twenty minutes later, my phone blew up. "Blair!

Where the hell are you?!" I kept my voice frantic, faking genuine panic. "Oh my god, Mrs. Sterling, I am so sorry! Maxine just called me with an emergency casting call!

I had to run!" Mrs. Sterling’s shrill shriek nearly shattered my phone speaker. "Callum already dumped you once! I thought you would have learned your lesson, you stupid brat!

Did you really leave without paying the jeweler?! You expect me to foot the bill?

Get your ass back here and swipe your card right now!" I pulled the phone away from my ear, tapping the microphone to create static. "Mrs. Sterling? What? I can't hear you!

The reception in this studio is terrible! Hello? … Hello?" I didn't wait for her to pop a blood vessel. I hit end call. Chapter 7